


Folklore

by HelviusCinna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Author is mental, Happy Ending, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kitsune, M/M, Mpreg, Slow Build, Soul Bond, The Author Regrets Nothing, minor fluff, yeah...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelviusCinna/pseuds/HelviusCinna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is torn between Derek and the life he had. But in the wake of a their final hurrah Derek binds himself to Stiles in a way no one was expecting. Despite this, Stiles tries to move on with his life and with the adorable Asian girl new to the school. Until things start being weird. Weirder than normal. Stiles's life can never be normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Look So Fine - Garbage

**Author's Note:**

> Floating around on Tumblr somewhere.

“Look,” Stiles rested head on his steering wheel, “I don’t want to do this. I have to...” He muttered the last bit mostly to himself. 

Derek stared out into the dark night. His vision was starting to turn red, he knew what was coming. He didn’t want it to, but he couldn’t force anything on Stiles. He couldn’t bring himself to...not to the pale and freckle covered boy sitting next to him. 

Stiles sat back and stared at the scruffy and tensed male, “I’m sorry. Ok? I just-- we can’t keep...this.” He motioned to his jeep and them.

“I know.” 

Stiles let out a sigh and rubbed through his hair. He was on the brink of crying and he didn’t know why. They weren’t in a very serious relationship. It was always late night, fast and fumbling kissing or if the kissing got heavy they’d let their hands roam here or there. Most of the time it was in one of their cars, on occasion if Stiles’s dad had to work the late shift Derek would climb through Stiles’s window. That’s what Derek secretly liked best.

A thin bolt of lightening could be seen on the horizon, but Derek could hardly see anything anymore. His eye were blurry and hot. The night was humid and calling for rain. Derek could smell that in the air and he brought his head down so his chin was resting on his chest. Stiles was shaking and didn’t know what was compelling him to make Derek feel better. The situation couldn’t be fixed; There was no compromise. 

Stiles scooted closer, “I can’t keep hiding this. God,” He breathed out and pulled Derek into a side hug. 

“I know...” Derek whispered into Stiles’s ear.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles voice shook and more lightening struck. 

Derek shook his head, “Don’t...” He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly slide his arms around Stiles’s waist.

“I’m so-- I’m so sorry,” Stiles sloppily planted a kiss on his cheek, yet managed to end mostly in Derek’s ear. 

Normally Derek would roll his eyes, tease Stiles until the intensity was gone, and then hold Stiles until they started chuckling. Tonight he ran his hand up to Stiles’s neck and began to kiss his mouth gently. 

Stiles tilted his head back and Derek swiftly moved to the newly open area. Stiles breathed heavily, “Derek...” 

Thunder finally came rumbling through the ground and reverberated through the entire vehicle. Derek felt a pang of sadness go through him as Stiles jumped ever so slightly closer to him. Derek understood completely. Hiding their relationship was hurtful for both of them. Stiles couldn’t stand Derek’s front with Erica and it was causing him to drag in every other aspect of his life. In fact, Derek couldn’t stand it when Stiles looked at anyone. 

Stiles brought his hands up to Derek’s neck and the both started to fall back. Derek paused momentarily only to strip Stiles’s t-shirt off. The windows were fogged from the thick air and another flash of lightening cut through the sky. Stiles held back a whimper as Derek rocked his hips. He paused for a moment and ran a thumb over Stiles’s cheek, who leaned into his hand. 

Neither said anything, but the looks exchanged were clear. They both gave small nods and Stiles steadily, but nervously unbuttoned Derek’s shirt discarding it to their feet. It was the last time they’d drown in the sea of each other and they were going to dive until they were gasping for air. They pressed and pulled and gripped. Both knew it was their last time they’d be able to nip and kiss and embrace. 

The rain pounded on the metal roof of the Jeep. Stiles slowly drifted off to the steady sound of the rain and the warmth of Derek’s body. He knew Derek would be gone by the time he woke up. He knew it’d be easier that way, but for now he nuzzled deeper into Derek’s chest. Derek swallowed hard as he held the sleeping boy in his arms. The rain had the opposite effect for Derek. The metallic sound squashed out any thought he had and replaced it with ringing. He took one more look at the pale body draped over him, hugged it tightly, and then kissed the mess of chestnut hair. 

Derek swiftly and lightly placed Stiles down, reached in the back seat for a blanket that was kept there for emergencies to cover him, and grabbed his clothes. He didn’t want to be in human form, he didn’t want to be anywhere as anything right then. Derek held onto the door handle of the Jeep for several seconds and then transformed. The rain was cold and falling fast. He could even feel it through his fur. Lightening was crashing on the other side of the town, the storm was passing. He smelled the air to clear his nose of Stiles’s scent. There was something-- or someone else in the air that night.


	2. 1996 - The Wombats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3AM I'm excited to post this story...so excuse the editing things...yeah AO3 I'm aware I should edit it before posting...BUT HEHE here it is!

It was Saturday night and his dad was heading off to work. Stiles was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling. He felt antsy, but whenever he went to get up and do something his arms and legs felt like they were filled with lead causing him to give up and lay back down. He had his hands over his face and was breathing deeply. 

“I am your father...” He boomed into his hands, “I wonder what Darth Vader means.” 

Stiles put it on a mental list of things to look up. He knew he’d probably forget and remember it during his AP chemistry class or some other odd time. There was a knock at his open door. Stiles didn’t even notice that the shuffling in the room next him had stopped. He lifted his hands off of his face and saw his dad in uniform leaning on the door. 

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm.” He brought his hands back over his eyes. 

“Are you going over to Scott’s?” 

Stiles had anticipated the question, in fact he’d been anticipating the question for a weekend or two now. Most Saturday nights Stiles’s dad was home, he had refused to work Saturday nights upon Stiles’s request. Saturday nights had the highest crime rate of the week and that made them more dangerous. On most Saturday nights Stiles said he was going over to Scott’s, where in reality he was spending it his jeep or the crowded into the back seat of a Camero. And in reality Scott was usually with Allison. 

And Stiles wasn’t bothered that Scott was with Allison. He knew that if he said something Scott would be over in a second...He wasn’t bothered it wasn’t like Scott knew what was going on between them. And it wasn’t like Scott would have ever caught on, which obviously he didn’t. Stiles was more or less bored.

“Nope. He’s having date night with Allison.” 

“Again?” 

“Yeah, it’s their new thing.” 

“Oh, well there’s that leftover vegetable lasagna you made still in the fridge.” 

“Yeah there wouldn’t be if you actually ate it.” Stiles snapped. He quickly cringed at his own tone, but didn’t start spastically adding ‘sorries’ or ‘I just cares’. 

“Well huh.” He brought his hand down and came over to sit on Stiles’s bed, “Is everything ok?” 

Stiles sat up and crossed his legs pretzel style. He debated for a second about spilling everything. The tap had always been at a slow drip, but now it was almost to the brim of the sink. His dad knew a lot-- not everything, but still a lot. Stiles couldn’t ask for a more understanding parent, yet something about saying you were into other men was easier than bringing one home. Especially since the one he was going to bring home wasn’t always on the best of terms with his dad. 

“I could be worse, I suppose.” 

“You aren’t having panic attacks are you?” 

Stiles shook his head ‘no’. Where they panic attacks? No. It was more heartache, which made Stiles want to panic a little. Heartache for Derek Hale. Yeah that what would make him panic more than anything, but that heartache was overpowering any panic in his body.

“Stiles, no one is in danger are they? Not even Scott or- or- any of the other ones? I’ll help the best I know--” 

“No, none of that...Not that I know of. I think we’ve had the last of those crises.” 

His father flicked his wrist to rotate the watch that he always wore one notch too big,“I have to get to work, kiddo. If you need to talk let me know.”

“Hm,” Stiles sighed heavily through his nose. 

He didn’t even know what he was really that upset about. The situation in general yes. Or maybe it was that he got himself into the situation? Or maybe that nothing ever went according to his plans? Or-- he didn’t know. 

“Do I need to take you to the emergency room? I’ve never seen so much internal thought from you before. It’s so quiet.” 

Stiles jumped at the cold and weathered hand on his forehead and batted the it off. He couldn’t help but, laugh a little. His dad smiled and stared at him. Something wasn’t right and it hurt him to see his son like this. The glimmer in both of their eyes left quickly and Mr. Stilinski stood and made his way for the door.

“Dad,” Stiles looked up and his dad paused, “I’ll let you know when I figure out what it is.” 

Mr. Stilinski nodded his head and gave an sympathetic smile. 

Stiles hated himself at the moment. His overly strong self preservation instinct was hindering him as always. He could have asked Derek to let them make their relationship public and asked Derek to hold his hand when all of the stares happened. No, he realized Derek probably wouldn’t do that--

Stiles didn’t want to stay in the house anymore. He was having sudden cabin fever. He had no clue where to go or who to go to. He texted Lydia. She was off visiting Jackson at boarding school and then he thought about Danny. It was logical. Danny might understand what he was going through and even if he didn’t he was still a good guy to be around.

After texting back and fourth it was a go. Stiles left a note on the table and raided the cabinets. He finally found a bottle of Jack behind his mom’s old Christmas cookie cutter collection. His dad had gotten better at stashing it. Not good enough. Stiles held the bottle by the neck and walked with conviction to his Jeep. 

They met up on the Beacon Hills nature trail and quickly began drinking. Drinking and wandering and giggling until the giggles could be understood as talking. Stiles’s nose was running and felt toasty warm despite the fact that he could see his breath in the air. 

Stiles was leading the way and Danny was struggling to keep up. When Stiles stopped he had to stop or the world was going to start spinning faster. He sprawled out on the ground causing leaves to crinkle and cause even more noise in the mostly still woods.  
Danny finally sat up and realized they were in front of the old Hale house. Liquid sloshed adding to the noise and Stiles wondered if Derek was hiding out there tonight. 

“How do you feel uncircumcised penises?” Stiles slurred.

“If it’s yours I’m not interested.” 

“Nah! Not mine. Not mine.” Stiles pointed to the house and mouthed ‘Derek’

“Dude...” Danny mumbled and was in shock. 

“They’re so much work...and when he isn’t hard it looks like a big cucumber in a sock or something!” 

“I-” Danny started laughing hysterically, “I can’t--!” 

“I saw it on Oprah! Circumcision making penises more beautiful...no...his was beautiful. Like a regal well trimmed show dog! Auh-a bull dog!” Stiles unconsciously put a hand on his belt buckle as he thought about it. 

“You watch Oprah?!” 

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t understand you’re a--” He had a drunken struggle for words, “ a pitcher!” 

“No I’m not...”

“Doesn’t matter. I watch Oprah!” 

Stiles hobbled to his feet.

“I want a free car.” Danny said longingly and laid back down with a plop.

“Me too!” Was slipping off his shoes, “I Want!” He threw his left shoe at the carcass of a house, “A free!” His right shoe went through a window, “Car!” He paused for a moment and then chucked his phone.

The two cackled and snorted and then progressed to snickering until Danny’s died out. Stiles looked over and saw that he had passed out. The balled up feeling he had in his chest came back again without the noise and chatter.

Taking a swig he gulped the bitter brown liquid down quickly. He dropped the bottle and wandered to a tree. Slumping down he felt his watering up making the house and his surroundings disappear. 

He went back to thinking he could have at least asked Derek to make their relationship public. Some terrified little kid was shaking inside him that night. That shaking and terrified little kid didn’t want to be hurt again. Stiles knew how many times he could have lost Derek. He didn’t want to loose someone again. Stiles tried to keep everyone around him safe, including Derek, but that’s hard to do when he was constantly putting himself in life-threatening situations...life-threatening even for a werewolf. 

When you can’t protect what you love you protect yourself.

Stiles weeped and he tried to stop. When he tried he’d go to take a breath in and it would just turned in to him hyperventilating until a burst of hysterical bawling overpowered him. He hid his face against the tree and continued to cry until he dozed off.


	3. Chapter 3

The crowd cheered as the ref blew his whistle. Two mid-fielders hunch and lunged shoulder to shoulder to get the small and densely packed rubber ball in front of them. The cheering quieted at the visiting team got the ball and managed to get the ball down the field in a matter of seconds. 

Stiles sat and half-watched as the freshman in the goal filling in for Danny flinched and missed the ball. The full moon had an orange glow around it, the light was bright enough they could have turned off the stadium lights and still have seen fine. 

“Oh shaven Jesus...” Stiles said without blinking or slowing the tapping of his foot.

“Miller!” His coach shouted and threw his hands in the air. “We’re going to do nothing except have people run and throw balls at you next practice! Come on! Block one!”

Stiles’s stomach was churning. He didn’t eat before the game and was beginning to regret the decision. He could feel bile climbing up his esophagus and was sipping it down with his water bottle. He debated if it was the burrito at lunch, being overly hungry, or maybe he was just getting whatever Danny had... 

“Come on! Stilinski! I was saving you for after halftime, but you’re goin’ in now. Get that helmet on.”

“You never put me in...” Stiles coughed and gripped at his stomach. 

“I’m going to this year! Last year you showed some major improvement...Like scoring goals, unlike these people. HEY! You all better start running like your asses are on fire!” He shouted and paced up the sidelines of the field. 

Stiles shook himself out of it, put in his mouth guard, pulled on his helmet, and snapped in the chin strap. It was the most Claustrophobic he had ever felt. His head was pounding. The taste of his rubber mouth guard was horrid, and the smell of padding and old sweat was making the bile travel at twice the speed. Stiles stood holding his stick’s net barely touching the ground in one hand and waited for the ref to blow the whistle. He searched the crowd for his father, who was easy to spot next to Mrs. McCall in his sheriff’s uniform. His dad smiled and clapped loudly, unlike Mrs. McCall, who was still searching with a somewhat hopeful, but mostly disgruntle face for her son. 

Normally he’d wave, however right then the thought of moving made him want to throw up in his mouth. His heart was racing and he was breaking out into a cold sweat. 

“Unbearded Jesus please let this be adrenaline...” 

The whistle blew and made Stiles’s ears ring. He lurched forward grabbing at his abdomen with his free hand. In milliseconds he was darting for the locker room, his stick lay in the place he was standing, his helmet was tossed carelessly in his path, and his mouth guard came out and he dropped to his knees by the locker room’s exit. Stomach acid flowed out of his mouth. Stiles’s throat burned and the taste was making him heave again. Nothing else came out thankfully. He moved a few inches away from the pile and leaned against the cinderblock wall. It raised goosebumps on his skin, it felt nice and he was slowly regaining his composure. 

Stiles shut his eyes and tried to go to a meditative state, well that and he was waiting for someone to come and check on him. An echo of a distant and low-grumble of a howl reached his ears. 

“Jesus and the Easter bunny playing checkers...” He mumbled and spat on the ground next to him then returned his head against the exterior wall. 

Derek waited and listened. He needed to see new scenery and the moon tonight called for a gathering. The pack would be faster together and more connected. They would have already turned, but not because of rage or bloodlust tonight. They’d be in control. Derek had thought about Peter had said to him. He was trying to build trust, even if he didn’t want to see anyone. 

One by one everyone started showing up: Isaac first; Erica and Boyd; and then Scott. Derek nodded wordlessly to each person and they started to run. That’s all they did. 

Derek ran with the group until he felt all of their strides begin to match his tempo. He listened to their hearts until that matched too. It took until they got two towns away, when his family did ran together they’d be barely to the edge of town and that was with twelve people. Derek’s pride deflated and was replaced by defeat. Derek thought about visiting his uncle and then decided that he needed some time.

He change to his half way state and summoned Scott over, “You’re in charge for a while.” 

Scott nodded and was only half suspicious. He had seen a side of Derek he’d never seen before, well felt it. There was always something slightly wrong with Derek, but tonight it was like the smell of blood on a fresh cut. The others stared at him as he walked away, transforming back into a wolf. 

The crowd cheered, they must have scored. Stiles was beginning to feel a little chilled, better and a little chilled. Stiles shook himself out of it and returned to the field, he somehow brought himself to play.


	4. Chapter 4

As per usual Stiles was quickly and spastically setting his books and notebooks in his locker and as per usual Scott was behind him throwing with impressive force his stuff messily on top of it. Hungry teenage boy mixed with werewolf could be a dangerous mix.

“You’re going to dent my locker one of these days.”

Scott ignored Stiles, “How was the game?” 

“You’ll be paying for it mister.” 

Stiles didn’t want to talk about lacrosse. Scott and Isaac weren’t there, Danny was sick, and they did miserably. In fact, Scott and Isaac hadn’t been in school all week. 

“We can’t go to finals now, can we? Gah! Stupid...” He muttered. 

“And then I’ll make you put your shit in your own locker.” 

They walked through the propped open door of the cafeteria. The lunch room wasn’t bustling like it was yesterday. In fact, it was rather gloomy since the game. Allison sat in her regular spot waiting for the line to die down and was talking to Lydia who was opening her packed lunch and neatly laying it out. 

He smiled and waved at Allison, “But my locker is on the second floor!” 

“Yep.” Stiles entered the line. He took a dinner roll, munched a bite out of it, and then set it down on his tray.

Scott stood from hunched position and left his arm hovering under the sneeze guard, “If Derek didn't call all of us out...” 

“It’s not that hard to say no.” Stiles abruptly dropped the scoop he was holding. He forewent the mashed potatoes and left the line to just pay for his food. 

He was feeling annoyed with Scott today and he knew he shouldn’t be so irritable or moody. It shouldn’t have gotten to him like that, he was just talking. All Stiles could think was how much he hated the full moon and how it took every ounce of strength not to puke on the field when someone with extra bad B.O. or was wearing too much cologne blocked him. He was trying not to think about Derek and he had been making progress since that night he had been drinking with Danny. 

Stiles sat down and nearly screamed and started to cry when his milk carton wouldn’t open. He paused for a moment to regain his composure and stared at Lydia meticulously peeling an orange. He knew she was listening, but something about her had changed. Almost softened. She barely made snarky remarks unless the statement was truly absurd and really needed to be corrected. Scott plopped down at the corner of the table by Allison, who lovingly grabbed his arm. 

“It was supposed to be a gathering thing, but we just ran. And- and- said he was leaving Beacon Hills for a while.”

Stiles shrugged and crumbled his cookie into little bits. Allison nodded and acted like it was really puzzling. Stiles could feel Lydia glancing at him every time she picked a piece of her orange apart and he tried not to look back. He didn’t want to see the accusations that she was making with her hazel speckled eyes. 

“Hellooo? Stiles?”

“I auh think Stiles is giving you the silent treatment.” Allison giggled at the thought: Stiles being silent. 

“You’re- you’re acting like Derek right now!” Scott had a devious grin on his face, waiting for a joke back.

“I’m really beginning to wonder if you have the deepest anus in the world, Scott.” Stiles glared at him and the smile dissipated his best-friend’s face. The whole table stopped moving and became incredibly still. 

“Stiles?” Allison forehead was covered in wrinkles of worry and inquiry. 

Lydia had stopped peeling her orange and cocked an eyebrow at him. Stiles finally acknowledged her looks. She gave the smallest shake of her head with her mouth open and eyes wide. Despite his best efforts his lips twitched just enough and his head cocked to the left. Lydia broke eye contact and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

“You’re head seems to be pretty far up it.” The metal chair’s feet groaned against the linoleum as Stiles stood abruptly.

“We could get that checked out by The Guinness Book of World Records.” Danny added. He’d been standing there for quite some time. He chuckled trying to break the tension. Stiles was almost about ready to throw up again. He took a deep breath and marched out of the lunch room.

“Stiles!” Scott called after his best friend. “Stiles...” He said quietly and apologetically to himself and sat back down. 

“What is wrong with him?” Danny asked with a small amount of food in the side of his mouth and leaned back in his chair. 

“I’ve never seen him like that.” Allison crossed her arms. 

“Maybe you mentioning Derek wasn’t the brightest idea.” Lydia said quickly and with plenty of sass that everyone at the table felt stupid. 

Danny acted oblivious and tried not to picture the things that Stiles had told him about Derek. He wished he could be surprised by Lydia figuring it out in a split second, yet it was Lydia. She was a discreet wunderkind. 

Scott knit his eyebrows together and pouted his lower lip, “But why? Stiles and Derek aren’t exactly friends, but...” 

“Yeah, they aren’t exactly friends.” Lydia repeated and tried to make a physical motion with her arms to represent how obvious it really was. 

Allison brushed it off and went to the lunch line, Danny had gone to chewing the bite stored in his cheek and had let his mind wander to his boyfriend to block out scarring mental images, and Scott concentrated on the lunch table. 

“I guess...I mean I did ditch him and the game for Derek.” Scott concluded it to be jealousy and felt a little bad. For, of course, the absolute wrong reason. “I wonder if he’s going to practice today.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, which went unnoticed by Scott and then she mentally hit her forehead. It wasn’t really Scott’s fault. They’d gone to great lengths to keep it from everyone, especially Scott, and that meant from Allison as well. 

Danny, like Lydia was dying on the inside, “Yeah I’m gonna guess that’s a no.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is floating around Tumblr somewhere as well.


End file.
